


As Long as you Love Me

by summerrain24601



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 16:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerrain24601/pseuds/summerrain24601
Summary: Just little moments of post-Adamant feels.





	As Long as you Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Sera got left out because as much as I enjoy her companion dialogue I just can't get into her head when it comes to fanfics. I left out Dorian because when I try to write from his perspective it's usually pretty hit or miss, and this time just happened to be a miss.
> 
> 12/7/1017: Edited because Dalish elves don't do tourneys.

She'd said once that it was nice to not have to look down when she was talking to him. And she was different from any other of his kind he'd seen. Most of the qunari in Seheron and Par Vollen had skin of a color similar to his own. A few were the color of a tempered steel blade, and a couple of the Ben-Hassrath had skin so dark they were almost impossible to see at night. But hers was the color of a new copper coin, with a little bit of a shine to it. She was also a rarity in that she kept her hair long, usually tied back at the base of her skull with whatever strip of leather she happened to have on her at the moment. Right now, though, she was dozing against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Not for the first time, he was glad her horns pointed behind her head. He knew from experience how dangerous their horns could be, and had no interest in getting his shoulder, or any part of his face given the size of her horns, gouged. 

"Good to see her finally getting some sleep," Dorian said quietly. 

"What do you mean?" Bull asked. He had one arm loosely around her shoulders, feeling the ropes that made up her current armor preference. The antaam-sar, another thing he hadn't expected to see this far south. But she seemed to enjoy the looks it drew. And it showed off the scars she'd collected since everything began, proving that she wasn't someone to be messed with even if their enemy didn't know she was Inquisitor.

"She's been coming into the library a lot more often, and she's got bags under her eyes," he explained. "My guess? She's been having nightmares about what happened at Adamant. From what I read in the reports, that demon was as big as Haven's chantry. That's enough spider to give anyone nightmares. And having to decide between Hawke or Loghain? I couldn't have done it." 

That was definitely a big demon. He glanced down at her, glad that he hadn't been there but at the same time wishing he had been. And, of course, as stubborn as she was, she hadn't said anything. He looked back over at Dorian, the slightest of smirks gracing his face.

"That's why she's Inquisitor and you're just along for the ride."  
________________________________________________

She had cried herself to sleep in his arms, and though it had pained him to watch, he was glad that she was now sound asleep. He had been checking in on her ever since returning from Adamant Fortress two weeks ago. Some nights, she would try to sleep and be unable to. Other nights, like tonight, she spent an hour or more fearing what others must think of her. She had been faced with yet another impossible choice. Hawke or Alistair. But Hawke hadn't given her the chance to make that choice. The Champion had instead attacked the demon in order to allow her to escape the Fade with Alistair. Or, so the report had said. His talent in healing magic had been requested elsewhere during the siege, though he wished he had been at her side. 

"Ir abelas, ma vhenan," he whispered, softly pressing his lips to her forehead before laying her onto the bed. She muttered something he couldn't clearly hear, and rolled onto her side as he attempted to pull the blankets out from under her. He smiled softly down at her. She was so beautiful. He pulled the blankets over her, then brushed her hair from her face. She was more than beautiful. She was graceful, and kind, and so, so pure. And she had stolen his heart, which he knew was dangerous. The branches of Elgar'nan framed her eyes from all sides, and he knew just how the black lines brought out her brilliantly blue eyes.

Regret filled him at the truths he hadn't told her. She deserved the truth, before he made himself leave her side. She deserved the truth, before he broke both their hearts. But he wasn't sure how long he could maintain his façade, how much longer it would take before he gave in completely and laid his plans aside for good. A future with someone as warm, as kind, as gentle as she was... that could never be a bad thing, right?  
______________________________________________

She knew she wasn't as observationally skilled as Leliana was(as her friend had so kindly pointed out not long after their arrival at Skyhold), but she'd noticed the change in her love. For the Inquisitor had changed. Her stride was shorter, as was her temper, and there were dark circles under her eyes that hadn't been there before. The siege of Adamant Fortress had left its mark. Josephine wished there was something she could do or say to make the burden easier for her love to bear. 

So she tried. Every day, they spent an hour or two on her balcony, simply talking. But nothing changed. Her smile still failed to reach her eyes, and the musical quality of her laughter had all but disappeared. It got to the point where Josephine was so frustrated at what she saw as her own inability that she ended up going to Leliana for advice. 

"There is nothing you can do for her," her redheaded friend had said, "except to let her know you are there if she needs you. She cares deeply for you, that is why she says nothing. She doesn't want you to worry about her when you already have so much to do." It had given her an idea, and that was how she found herself in the Inquisitor's private quarters. Accusations that weren't befitting of a woman of her standing, but were backed by sadness and worry, instead of by anger. Assurances that she would stay regardless of what she heard. And, finally, the small happiness that her love was no longer going to be dealing with her pain alone. It was a burden the two of them would share, from then on. All, once again, thanks to Leliana.  
_____________________________________________

She had joked about her parents being bothered by his lack of titles outside the Inquisition… Maker, had it really been months ago? She had burst into his life with a flash of brilliant green as she closed the rift, then the Breach, and even after the mess with the mages in Redcliffe she was still smiling, still joking. Still trying to make sure everyone else was content, and even after Haven she worried about everyone else first. But now, her smiles were rare, and her jokes few and far between, though Varric hadn't quite given up yet. Cullen doubted that he ever would. He was a good friend to her. 

She had fallen asleep in his bed in the loft above his office while waiting for him to finish his work for the day. They didn't often get time alone together, usually his work or hers would keep them busy until well into the night. She had taken on the habit of slipping into his bed on nights when she finished early enough to hope that he might too. 

Her face was scrunched up, again. It wasn't the first time he'd climbed the ladder only to find her in the grip of a nightmare. He still remembered the fear he'd felt when he watched her dash into the fortress, with just Varric, Iron Bull, and Blackwall at her side. And when someone told her she'd fallen into the Fade, physically into the Fade, he had been terrified. But, he reminded himself as he removed his armor and placed it on the stand, she had likely been even more afraid than he was. She had faced down the demon and been forced to make two impossible choices in the span of less than an hour… 

How he admired her strength. And how he wished he possessed the same.  
____________________________________________

She'd come to watch him more and more frequently in recent days. It was as if watching him carve the little toys for the children in the camps was soothing for her. Or maybe it was the fact that they talked so much about pointless nothings. Who they thought was going to win the next Grand Tourney, which was being held in Wycome this year, though she hadn't known much about the tourneys months ago. He would tell her some of the things he'd seen, and she would tell him stories of the time she'd spent with her clan. Their conversations meant little, but they seemed to relax her when she sat near his fire, leaning against the back wall of the stables and watching the wood change and come to life at the touch of his tools.

How he had treasured those moments. Now, though, he covered her slender, naked body with the blankets he'd bought from one of the merchants that made their stall nearby. His eyes locked on the intricate tattooing on her face, the mark of the Dalish, and he ran his thumb over them, committing the markings to memory. She had explained them to him, once. Her marks were for Andruil, the huntress. His other hand placed the Warden-Constable's badge next to her before he stood and made his way to the ground floor. They had only just come back from the mess at Adamant Fortress, after having dealt with the different kind of mess that had waited at the Winter Palace. He left the badge for her, and stuck the note for her under the toy he'd been carving. 

Her deeds had inspired him to own up to his mistakes. Ten years he'd been wearing another man's name. And now, though he knew Leliana's agents would find him eventually, he hoped it was at least long enough for him to put some distance between himself and everyone here. It would be better, he believed, for her to continue to believe the lie. If she learned the truth, it would break her heart a second time.

But before she was Inquisitor, she was a hunter. He had no doubt that she'd find him, eventually.


End file.
